


Tending

by yeaka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Post-Game, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26314912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Leo’s up late.
Relationships: Leo Manfred/Simon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Tending

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Simon’s consciously aware of nothing. The only active protocols are those required to maintain him and the low-priority link to the house’s security system—but that’s enough. One of the automatic doors registers activation, and just like that, Simon’s _thoughts_ come online—he dutifully runs through all incoming data and checks if Markus has come home early. No one else is scheduled to arrive. But his internal clock reads two a.m.—still very much _night_ —and it’s not the front door that’s opened. 

His eyes are still closed. He’s standing, stiff as a board, in the middle of the living room, right between the couch and coffee table, because he’s just never quite mastered _lounging on the couch_ like Markus has. He doesn’t need to open his eyes and scan the room—he feels the calloused skin of _human_ fingers wrapping feather-light around his wrist. That touch is startlingly _warm_. Leo’s familiar voice murmurs, “Can you turn on?”

Simon lets his lashes flutter up, pupils training on his host. He was ‘on’, just in power-saving mode. There’s no need to be awake when Markus is off on a diplomatic mission and Leo is asleep. Except Leo isn’t sleeping like he should be, and there are already dark circles under his eyes to show for it. Granted, Leo’s pale skin is never quite as pink and lively as it should be. 

Leo hesitates, like he usually does when he faces Simon, even now, so many months after the revolution and his tentative sobriety. Simon can see the struggle in him—the want to ask, but the guilt over demanding—Simon’s seen Markus’ memories and knows they plague Leo too. Simon kindly prompts, “What do you need?”

Leo bites his bottom lip. He chews it a few times before admitting, “I had a bad night.” Simon can tell. The baggy pajamas hanging from Leo’s trim frame are soaked with sweat in places—darker under his arms, in the middle of his chest, one pant leg rolled up his calf and one sock halfway off. His brown hair’s disheveled, worse than usual—he’ll probably have a beanie on as soon as the sun comes up just to escape having to brush it. Maybe Simon will brush it. Simon tries to cut Leo slack, because he can’t imagine what it must be like to sweat and stink and grow stubble uncontrollably, but at the moment, Leo does look more of a wreck than he’s looked in months. 

Technically, there’s nothing Simon can do about that. He can only make a token effort and hope the thought’s enough to count. He knows he doesn’t have to. They’ve secured their freedom, and he has his own rights—the house is in Markus’ name, and while Markus seems to care for his difficult pseudo-step-brother, he’d _never_ make Simon serve him. But Leo sometimes looks so very fragile, so human and _vulnerable_ , that Simon just can’t help himself. He nods and lets his hand twist in Leo’s grip, fingers slipping through Leo’s own, closing around them, squeezing tight. Leo lets out a breath as Simon takes the lead. 

They go to Leo’s bedroom, and it takes less than a millisecond for Simon to note the blankets on the floor and the pillows by the closet—everything tossed away like Leo’s old bad habits. Simon fixes it without a word, meandering around the room to collect all the things that belong somewhere else. His model was built for housekeeping, and as much as North would hate to hear it, there’s a part of Simon that still finds solace in fulfilling his first purpose. It’s made easier by the grateful look that Leo gives him. Leo doesn’t move until Simon nods to the bed and says, “Lie down.”

Leo obeys like a proper PL600. He climbs under the sheets and lets Simon sidle in beside him, smoothing the blankets over them both. Then Simon’s arms are open, and Leo’s tucked between them. 

Sharing the same pillow, they lie side be side, close enough that the heat reads too high for Leo’s comfort. Leo doesn’t complain. Simon lifts his hand to Leo’s head and threads through his hair, gently petting back through it, soothing Leo with one simple touch. He can tell from Leo’s contented sigh that it’s working. In no time at all, Leo’s clearly feeling better—his body relaxes against Simon’s, eyes falling closed. Humans are often such complex creatures, and at other times so _simple_. All Leo needs is the tiniest bit of affection, and he melts in Simon’s hands. 

Simon doesn’t power down again until Leo’s peacefully asleep, safe in Simon’s arms.


End file.
